


Is She Really a Keeper?

by ChibiSunnie



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: F/M, M/M, gay guy dating girl to hide that he's gay, in the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2019-08-11 05:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiSunnie/pseuds/ChibiSunnie
Summary: Robert starts to question his relationship with Joy…as well as his feelings for Peter.





	Is She Really a Keeper?

Robert walked out of the café across from his college campus and held the door open. His girlfriend Joy followed closely after, while his mother Pearl and his friend Peter were a few paces behind, deep in an argument about the symbolism of a play.

Timidly trying to break up the fight, Robert commented, “Uh…that was a lovely brunch, wasn’t it? I, for one, think it was a wonderful way to end your weekend visit, Mother.”

Turning away from Peter, who was in mid-sentence, Pearl responded to Robert. “Yes, I had a nice visit. I enjoyed your play yesterday—well-written as always, and you had many talented actors and actresses bringing it to life.” Pearl narrowed her eyes at Peter. “Although, some weren’t quite as talented.”  

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was a delight seeing you again, Mrs. Simmons,” he said in a straightforward manner to hide his sarcasm. He continued in a cold tone, “But if you excuse me, I have a paper to finish for tomorrow.”

Replying in an equally hostile manner, Pearl chastised Peter, “You shouldn’t wait until the last minute to work on assignments.”

Purposely ignoring her comment, Peter turned to Robert and said, “I’ll meet you at eight in the library so we can figure out our topic for our political science project.”

“Yes, I’ll see you then,” Robert said with a hint of excitement.

“That boy could learn some manners,” Pearl scoffed as Peter left. She then turned to Joy with a smile. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Joy.”

Joy returned the smile and said, “I always enjoy talking with you, Mrs. Simmons. You have such fascinating views on literature and drama.”

“Thank you, dear!” Pearl said with glee. “It was a delight for me too. There aren’t too many of you kids these days that still appreciate fine culture.” Pearl patted Joy on the shoulder and looked at Robert as she said, “She’s a keeper, Robert. You’d be a fool not to marry her.”

Joy beamed with happiness and lovingly squeezed Roberts arm. Robert nervously laughed at the comment. 

“Well, I should get going,” Pearl announced. Joy let go of Robert’s arm so he could hug his mother farewell. “You take care of yourself,” Pearl told him as she wrapped her son in a bear hug.

“Thank you, I will, Mother. You do the same,” Robert replied as best he could with the lack of oxygen.

After Pearl left, Joy gently grabbed Roberts hand and they started walking back to the dorms. Robert was unusually quiet, but Joy didn’t seem to take any notice as she practically skipped with content.

 

*****

 

Robert and Joy were sitting on his dorm room bed, which was covered with physics textbooks and notebooks. Robert was the Resident Advisor for one of the freshman dorms, so his room was smaller than a typical junior’s was; but he had it all to himself, making it ideal for studying.

Joy giggled and tried to hide her goofy grin with her notebook. Robert gave her a perplexed look.

With a slight chuckle of amusement and bewilderment he asked, “Did you finally discover the exciting world of physics?”

Joy laughed in response and teased, “No, you’re the only one who can find science fun.” She put her notebook down and explained, “I just can’t believe your mother likes me so much that she thinks we’d be perfect for each other and should get married.”

Seeing Joy’s grin, Robert averted his gaze and muttered, “Yeah.”

Confused, Joy asked, “You don’t agree? I mean, she’s right about how much we have in common—we’re definitely compatible.” Sensing that wasn’t the reason for Robert’s reluctance, Joy tried to guess, “Is it because you don’t want to think about it until we know where we’ll be after graduation? I know it’s harder for Museum Studies majors to find jobs, but that’s what makes it so perfect you’re majoring in Education. There are schools everywhere so we’d always be able to be together.”

“It’s not that,” Robert stated with a sigh. “It’s just…” He paused, trying to summon his courage. Joy stared at him with wide-eyes in anticipation of the answer. Robert opened his mouth to explain, but then bit his lip nervously and hastily grabbed the textbook. 

“Look, we should be focusing on the homework,” Robert stated, pretending to calmly search for something in the book. 

Joy complied with Robert’s attempt to change the subject and picked her notebook back up. “Ugh, I’m never going to get this,” she said with defeat and lightly banged the back of her head on the wall behind them.

“That’s why we’re studying together—I can help you figure out what you don’t understand so you’ll know how to do the problems on your own,” Robert encouraged.

Staring at the jumble of numbers on the assignment page, Joy complained, “When did science start having all this math? I need a calculator.” 

“There’s one in my top desk drawer,” Robert offered. 

Joy walked across the room to the desk and opened the top drawer. Rummaging around for the calculator, she found it shoved towards the back next to a leather-bound book. “Hey, what’s this?” Joy wondered as she pulled the book out. 

“No!” Robert shouted. He leapt off the bed and across the room, sending all the papers and books from his lap flying. Snatching the book out of Joy’s hand, Robert tried to cover up his outburst, “I mean…uh, please don’t open that. It’s personal.” 

Joy was momentarily stunned at Robert’s panic, before her expression twisted into a smirk of realization. “Don’t tell me—you actually have a diary?” Joy failed at her attempt to stifle her snort of laughter. 

Robert blushed and explained, “Well, it’s not really a diary in the traditional sense.” He sat back down on the bed, holding the book and touching its worn cover. “It’s a poetry journal.” 

Joy raised her eyebrow to indicate she didn’t see the difference. 

“Whenever I’m feeling particularly sad or angry or confused or passionate about something, I write out my feelings in experimental style poems,” he elaborated. 

“I bet they’re beautiful,” Joy mused. She sat down next to him, lightly tossing the calculator towards her notebook. “Will you ever let me read any of them?” 

Robert stared at the book, as if X-raying its contents to see if any could be shared. “I…I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready to share them with anyone.”

 

*****

 

Robert and Peter sat next to each other in a corner of the library, hunched over a study table with enough books to create a small fort. Robert was deep in thought, but aimlessly kept turning the pages of the book in front of him to make it seem like he was looking for a topic. Peter saw through the charade and furrowed his brow in annoyance. 

“Here’s a topic idea—we write about the time they colonized Mars and formed a new government with the aliens?” Peter sarcastically proposed. 

“Huh?” Robert snapped back to reality. 

“Focus, Robert,” Peter scolded. “You’re awfully distracted. What’s wrong?” 

Robert rubbed his temple and sighed. “It’s Joy. I realized today that we’re in very different places in our relationship.” 

“There’s an understatement,” Peter commented. “You two are like Meursault and Marie from The Stranger. Going through the motions of having a relationship, her in love, while you not even liking her.” 

Robert winced at Peter’s brutal honesty and the accuracy of his statement. 

“Why did you go out with her in the first place?” Peter inquired. 

“I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying no when she asked me out,” Robert admitted.  

“Didn’t want to hurt her?” Peter repeated in disbelief. “What did you think—that after a few dates she’d get over you?” 

Robert silently hung his head in embarrassment. 

Outraged at that response, Peter continued to berate Robert, “The girl has been enamored with you since Day One! Going out with her was only going to increase her feelings and lead to love!” 

Robert attempted to defend himself, but wasn’t able to get any of his mumbled sentences to take form. 

Peter scoffed at him, “Did you honestly think it wouldn’t reach this point? You really are like Meursault! When she asks you to marry her are you just going to say ‘Sure, okay,’ like he did and plan on letting her waste her life away with a man who doesn’t really love her? Oh, but wait, at least Meursault was honest and told Marie he didn’t love her. But you—you just pretend you care.” 

“Hey, that’s not true!” Robert shouted, pounding his fist on the table. The students on the other side of the library glared at him for interrupting their quiet study. Returning to a whisper, Robert continued, “I do love Joy, but as a friend.” 

“Then prove it. Love means being honest and doing what is best for the person,” Peter challenged. 

Realizing that Peter was right, Robert buried his head in his hands. Peter lightly rubbed his hand on Robert’s back to comfort his friend, but Robert simultaneously fidgeted and grimaced with a slight blush. Peter noticed and glared as he took his hand away. “You can’t be honest about anything it seems,” he said coldly.

 

*****

 

Returning to his room later that night, Robert collapsed down onto his bed in defeat with Peter’s words from the library echoing in his head. “Oh, what am I going to do?” he whimpered, placing his arm over his face. He rolled over, grabbed his poetry journal and a pen still on his bed from before, and starting writing: 

Love means being honest, huh? How can I be honest with others when I’m not even honest with myself? Why DID I go out with her? I thought I was being noble and trying not to hurt her. Thinking that maybe there was a chance I could learn to love her, that I could feel the same way she felt. Or that her crush was just a fling and she’d move on and break up with me. But that’s just what I tell myself. When I look deeper I realize it’s only part of what I really felt. 

Scared to move; scared to hurt those I love. Not just Joy, but also my mother. She pressured me; pushed me. Always making comments about how I needed to find myself a nice girlfriend. I didn’t want to disappoint her. Her hopes and dreams of seeing my wedding, of having grandkids, of having a son who isn’t “tarnished with sin.” Scared to be disowned. Scared to disappoint. Scared to be the thing she’s constantly reviled. Scared to take away the dreams she had for her only child. 

And I could never tell her the truth. I could never tell anyone. So I said yes when Joy asked me out. I caved into the pressure. I caved into Joy’s beautiful pleading eyes; scared that I would shatter her if I rejected her. 

I hide behind this rouse, trying to placate everyone, priding myself on honesty while lying with my life. Cowering behind the fear of rejection, clinging to the love I know is acceptable but longing for a different kind. With every kiss I’m reminded that this is not who I am. With every date I’m realizing more and more how this is not fair. I can’t believe I’ve let this go on for over a year. I should have told her sooner. I never should have let this start. I should have realized I was only procrastinating for when I’d have to break her heart. 

But it’s time. I can’t keep up this charade anymore. In all novels I’ve read for Literature class it never ends well. I’ll end up hurting her much worse, draining her beautiful soul—a soul that should be brought to its fullest potential through love—by living on in this illusion of romance. She deserves someone special. Someone who will love her exactly the way she loves me. Why did I think these feelings for guys was something I could beat? Joy deserves someone who doesn’t want to cheat. 

I’ve already committed adultery of the heart, and it’s getting harder to resist my feelings for Peter. Even simple touches—the everyday friendship ones, are like taking a warm shower when I have the flu. The water droplets are like thousands of knives as they hit my skin, but simultaneously soothing, and I know it’s what I need. But I just can’t give into these feelings. I can’t act on them. It’s just not right. The parts don’t fit. I’d never be able to be a teacher. I’d never be able to adopt a child. I’d subject my life and his to ridicule and scorn. It may be what I need; it may be what I desire. But that doesn’t mean it’s worth it to throw everything away for the sake of pleasure. Especially when the friendship is the part I really treasure.

 

*****

 

Robert jumped at the familiar knock at his door. Joy and Robert hung out every day after they were both done with classes, and on Mondays she came to his room. Nervously Robert walked over and opened the door. Joy greeted him with a loving kiss on the lips, to which he barely responded. 

Pulling away, Joy noticed Robert’s pale face and the dark circles under his eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” Joy asked with concern. “You look awful. Were you up late studying or because something was bothering you?” 

“The latter…I…I have something to tell you, Joy,” Robert stammered. 

“Well that can’t be good,” Joy commented, her face showing much more worry than her voice let on. She placed her backpack on the floor and sat on the middle of Robert’s bed. 

Robert pulled the poetry journal out of his desk drawer. There were seven ripped up pieces of paper peeking out from various pages. Shaking, Robert handed her the book and explained in a hushed and trembling voice, “I didn’t want you to read what was in here because…because there are poems that…that say things I don’t have the courage to say. Things that I’ve…that I’ve hidden from you. And well…you’ll see. I bookmarked the ones that explain best how I feel.” 

Joy looked at Robert with genuine fear of what he had been hiding. She swallowed hard and slowly opened up the journal to the first bookmark. 

Unable to look at Joy as she read, Robert turned his back to her and sat on the foot of the bed. His face was bright red and he kept wringing his hands, trying to calm his shaking. 

All the bookmarked poems elaborated on what Robert wrote the night before. The first two were about his frustration towards his mother wanting him to date. About how she found people like him disgusting so he never wanted her to find out due to fear she’d hate him. About how he’d been bullied as a kid and teen and thus is scared even now to come out. Joy’s expression showed empathy towards Robert’s pain. 

She continued to the next two bookmarks, which were about their relationship. These hit her harder, and as she read her face grew increasingly somber and tears started to fall. They were about the reasons he agreed to go out with her. About how much he loved the companionship and spending time with her, yet hated the physical aspects of the relationship. About how he felt like each kiss and each touch was nothing more than a lie, as if he was acting in one of his plays.  

The following two bookmarks were about Robert’s feelings for Peter. How special Peter was, and how much he enjoyed spending time with him. About how these feelings were much more than friendship, and he wished that he could be with Peter in a romantic way. Joy shook her head in sadness; wishing that her eyes were deceiving her, that somehow she misread and it really wasn’t true. 

Finally Joy read the poem Robert wrote the night before with her tears falling more and more. When she reached the stanza that indicated he had to break up with her, she let out a sob. Robert gripped his arm in pain hearing how much he was hurting her. She whimpered as she read his reasons, yet slightly smiled through the tears as she saw how much he cared for her. 

When she finished reading, Joy closed the book but tears still streamed down her face. At the sound of the book closing, Robert slightly jumped. After a few minutes of awkward silence and intently analyzing the carpet, Robert cautiously turned to look at Joy. She was staring at him, and he could practically see her heart breaking through her eyes. “I-I’m so sorry,” he squeaked out.

Joy looked back down at the book, swallowing as if struggling to speak. Out of habit, Robert reached out to comfort her, but pulled his hand back realizing that in this case it might make her feel worse. Joy steadied her quivering lip, and in a weak voice said, “I know…I knew all along you never loved me like I loved you.” 

“H-how?” Robert managed to stammer through his shock at this revelation. 

“Because you never once reacted when we kissed,” she somberly answered. “And the whole time we were together it was always like you were with just a close friend, not a girlfriend.” 

Robert looked down in shame.  

Joy continued, “And even before we started dating I had a feeling by the way you looked at guys. Especially Peter.” 

The guilt on Robert’s face increased and he clenched his fists in frustration that he’d been so obvious. After a pause his face twisted in confusion and he inquired, “If you knew, why did you ask me out?” 

“The Kinsey scale says you could like girls too,” Joy wistfully said. “There was always that hope that one day you’d see me differently. You’d see me in a romantic light. You’d realize that because of how close we are as friends, we’d be a perfect match.” She handed the book back to Robert and mournfully whispered, “Now I know there really is no chance.” 

Taking off her glasses, Joy wiped away her tears. “Thanks for finally sharing your poems,” she said with a sad smile. “You should show them to Peter, with his ego he’d love to read all the beautiful things you said about him.” Joy attempted to laugh, but it came out more like a small sob. 

“I never acted on my feelings for Peter,” Robert reassured her. 

Putting her glasses back on Joy smiled but somberly replied, “I know. You’re too nice of a guy to do that.” 

Robert smiled at the compliment. After a pause he timidly asked, “C-can we still be friends?”  

“Of course!” Joy replied, shocked that was even a question. “I love you. Whether girlfriend or friend, I’ll always want to be by your side, Robert.” She gave him a tight hug, which he returned in full. 

“Well, uh, I guess I should be getting back to my dorm to start this homework,” Joy awkwardly stated as she grabbed her backpack and meandered towards the door. 

“Yeah, I should get to work too,” Robert agreed, rubbing his elbow. 

Joy opened the door, took a step out, and then turned back to make eye contact with Robert. “Thanks for letting me know now, rather than later.” 

Robert nodded. “Again, I’m sorry. I really didn’t—I don’t—ever want to hurt you,” he apologized. 

“Hey, I’ll be okay,” Joy tried to reassure Robert, but the tears re-forming in her eyes as she shut the door betrayed her words.

 

*****

 

Robert stared at the autumn trees that were lit up by the setting sun. He seemed unaware of the beautiful scene in front of him, though. Peter approached the deserted area and sat down next to Robert on the deteriorating wooden bench. Robert remained frozen in his somber, hollowed-out daze.

Trying to lighten the mood, Peter smirked and said, “Here to avoid Joy’s wailings?” 

Robert’s eyes widened and he paled. 

Peter softly chuckled and reassured Robert, “I’m joking.” 

Robert quietly asked, “Did you talk with Joy?” 

“No,” Peter replied. “I can tell you broke up with her by your demeanor.” 

Robert slouched over with a heavy sigh, resting his chin in his hands. “You were right; I needed to be honest with her.” Robert sighed again, “I still don’t know what I’m going to tell my mother. In her mind there’s no reason for me to break up with Joy.” 

“In your mother’s mind there’s no reason for anything that goes against her preconceived notions,” Peter complained. “Based on the few times I’ve chatted with her I’m surprised you’d want to tell her anything. I mean really, talking with her about post-modern impressionism was like discussing politics with a squirrel.” 

Robert chuckled in response. 

“You could always tell her you found someone else,” Peter offered in a serious tone as he put his face in front of Robert’s to make eye contact. He gently put his hands over Robert’s hands, inciting in Robert a simultaneous warm and sinking feeling. 

Realizing what Peter meant, Robert looked him in the eyes and sadly said, “I…I can’t,” as he reluctantly pulled his hands away from Peter’s.  

“What?” Peter asked, recoiling in genuine surprise. “I thought you felt the same way about me.” 

“I do. Honestly, I like you a lot. But I can’t be with you. I’m sorry,” Robert told him in a pained voice.  

Peter furrowed his brow. With equal parts annoyance and perplexity he inquired, “Why not?” 

“I…it’s complicated,” Robert nervously explained. “There are a lot of reasons, a lot of factors.” 

“A lot of reasons?” Peter scoffed. “You’re just scared of your mother.” 

With a twinge of panic Robert justified, “She’ll hate me! She’ll be disgusted and disappointed with me!” 

Peter stormed off the bench and chided, “Who cares what your mother thinks! You’re twenty years old! It’s time to grow up and stop skirting around your mother! Be a man!” 

“I am being a man!” Robert insisted, standing up from the bench to face Peter. “You don’t know how hard it is to resist! How much effort it takes to not act on my feelings for you!” 

Peter challenged, “Why do you have to resist?! Shouldn’t you only care about who YOU are and what YOU want?” 

“I do care about who I am and what I want! But I’m not just my romantic feelings—there’s a lot more to me than that!” Robert explained, “I have a passion for teaching—if any school found out I was gay, especially in a relationship, they’d fire me and I’d never get to teach again!”

“So you’re just going to keep up a charade and give into the ignorant discrimination of the school systems,” Peter said with disgust. “For someone who keeps saying we’re all ‘special’ and that we should accept others for who they are, you certainly don’t have much faith in yourself being special or in others accepting you.” 

“That’s not it!” Robert fumed, starting to shake with frustration that Peter wasn’t understanding him. “I grew up being told I’m not accepted for who I am. I want to tell my students—teach them from a young age—that they are special for being who they are, so that maybe when they grow up they can change this darned world by accepting and being accepted by others.” 

“You’re just a coward,” Peter accused.  

“No, I’m not,” Robert firmly stated. “It takes more courage to deny your own feelings for the sake of doing what’s right than to give in to them.” 

“I can’t possibly see how this is right,” Peter said coldly.  

Doing his best to remain steady, Robert resolutely replied, “This is the decision that I believe is best. And you…you need to respect that. So please understand. We can’t be anything more than friends.” 

Peter turned his back on Robert, stomped a few paces away, and put his hand on his face in frustration. He clenched and unclenched his other fist, trying to shake off his anger and disappointment. After a minute he looked over at Robert who had slumped back on the bench, staring at the ground in desolation. Peter’s scowl softened and turned into a loving smile. 

“Fine,” Peter stated. 

Robert looked up, his eyes indicating that he had been close to tears. 

“Being just friends is fine. It’s not the way I want to be with you, but...well, I care about you and would rather be with you as friend than not be with you at all,” Peter elaborated with embarrassment. 

Touched by the rare display of genuine feelings, Robert smiled warmly and simply said, “Thank you.” 

Peter cleared his throat and tried to change the subject before Robert could make it too mushy. “Well, I’m starving. Let’s go get dinner before the cafeteria closes, shall we?” 

“That sounds great,” Robert replied, grateful that he had two very special friends in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last of the Hey Arnold fanfics I wrote in the past and love enough that I want to post them here! In the Thanksgiving day ep, the combo of Peter telling Joy "you can't seem to hold onto anything, now can you?", Pearl pushing Simmons to take Joy on a date, and how Joy and Pearl both seem to equally resent Peter had always made me wonder if Simmons actually dated Joy at one point. Back in 2012, there were summer drawing prompt challenges in the Hey Arnold Jungle Movie facebook group, and the prompt Keeping a Secret made me think of that ep. It then ended up spawning a plot bunny about Simmons, Joy, and Peter in college together. So a few years later when there was a fanfic prompt challenge in that group that matched my plot bunny, I wrote it out! :D 
> 
> While I know some people might not be too happy about how I ended this given our current time period/culture, I figured it made the most sense given the time period/culture Simmons would have been in college and the fact that even in the 90s he STILL hadn't told his mother he and Peter were dating. I'm guessing it took him a long time to agree to date Peter, so it felt more natural for them to just be friends at this point. Plus it gives more reason for Peter to resent Pearl since in his mind she's the reason he and Simmons have to keep their relationship quiet. I’m extremely excited that Simmons and Peter got to be on-screen canon in The Jungle Movie and I hope that if we ever get a season 6 we’ll get to see more of them together! ^_^ <3 
> 
> The poems I had Simmons write were meant to be kind of in that same style as the tomato poem he read to the class that Helga said wasn't a poem but just a long sentence. Given that he loved that style, I thought his own would be the kind where it's mostly stream-of-consciousness prose but the last 2 lines of each stanza rhyme to give it a bit of traditional poetic flare.
> 
> Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon.


End file.
